Empty to See

Chu Ngo, SJ

The Indonesia immersion trip helped my spirituality grow because I discovered a new culture, a new perspective of Muslims, and a new perspective of God. Before the immersion, I worried about encountering Muslims. Influenced by the media in the United States, I thought Muslims were all about killing and suicide bombing, and that they were a weird and aggressive people. Encountering Muslims through the immersion trip showed me that I was wrong. Muslims are, actually, good people of faith. Their faith, journey, and practices challenged me to live out my faith better. I thank God for this immersion trip because I experienced His beauty and wonder. My challenge during the trip was to view the Muslim culture and faith without prejudice.

I learned that Muslim worshiped the same God as I did, prayed more vigorously than I did, practiced their religion more faithfully, and fasted more joyfully than I did . I was ashamed that I fasted only a few days a year as an obligation of Catholicism, and I still struggled with it while the Muslims celebrate a month of fasting and celebrate the Ramadan joyfully and spiritually. This practice helped me to reconsider the way I think of fasting.

Although the main task of the immersion was inter-religious dialogue, I felt drawn to the bells at the Buddhist Borobudur site. There were small bells and big Buddha statues in the lower levels, but as I climbed up, the bells got bigger, and at the top of the site, there was a big bell without a Buddha statue. It was an empty bell. At the top level, I felt like God spoke of all faith and religions. I realized that there was no need for a statue or an image. Similarly, in the lower level of religious practice, the religions are all different especially in regards to images. Buddhists pray with the Buddha; Catholics pray with the statue of Jesus on the cross; Protestants pray with the Holy Bible; Taoists pray with the way and doing nothing-ness; Jews pray with the laws of the Lord; Muslims pray with the Koran; and so on and so forth. However, the statues and images only appear at the lower stages of the journey of faith. In the highest stage of spiritual life, there is only one thing remaining: God is love. I believe that in the highest level of the faith and spiritual journey, all religions can share a single idea and notion of God as the God of love, compassion, and harmony. In order to encounter the God of love, I believe that we have to empty the images externally and internally to go beyond our religious boundary to meet other faiths. Wherever and whenever we encounter God, there is no need of statues or images. There is no need of laws and religions because laws and religions always have limitations and boundaries. The image of the empty bell at Borobudur changed the way I see God in all things.

Although the idea was beautiful, I did not see things from this "non-boundary viewpoint" before the bells. Although I kept reminding myself to be indifferent to enjoy the beauty of the differences, I still encountered events and people with bias, prejudice, and a narrow mind. The image of the bells at Borobudur invited me to encounter things differently. The bells invited me to see God bigger than what I was used to and to admit that my knowledge of God was limited and narrow. I believe that God led me to the unknown path to widen my perspective and enrich my spiritual journey with Him. Therefore, I opened myself to any unexpected coming events.

One of the events in the immersion that struck me deeply was the trip to Pesantren in Mlangi. The school studying the Koran. We lived with the schoolboys for two days. Encountering people living in a small village who were poor was not a surprise for me. Sixty Santris who were in the boarding school came from poor family backgrounds, so they could fit into the poor environment at Pesantren easily. What struck me was the way of life there: from the way the Santris shared meals on the ground, to their idle time, to the education system.

On the first day we arrived at the Pesantren, I was shocked to see the way they ate their meals. Personally, I thought that was the behavior of dogs! Although I have lived with the poor, the outcast, the marginalized, the indigenous, and the prisoners, none of their lives were as desperate as this. I reminded myself that I did not come to observe, I came to experience and to learn, so I sat down and joined their meal. The meal was simple without nutrition: a tray of rice with some shredded green papaya on top that was shared among five Santris. Another time, they ate rice with a thin layer of instant noodle on top. I thought the meal of five was barely enough for three persons. Eating with them was risky because they all ate with their hands. I was not worried about the food because it was cooked, but sharing the meal with bare hands was worrisome because I did not know if they washed their hands. I did not know their language, culture, custom, religion, or their lifestyle so I thought the best way to come to know them and to allow them to know me and to accept me was to be and to act like them. It was a lesson of humility for me, which I enjoyed.

The schedule was loose, and it seemed that they did not have much thing to do during the day. They studied the Koran with a master of the school, a Kyai, for an hour a day, with a group leader for another hour, and alone for two hours. The rest of the day they took care of themselves. Most of the time, I observed them hanging around smoking, cooking, or sleeping. The age of the Santris ranged from twelve to thirty. The young were supervised by the old. However, the older ones – the group leaders – had to take care of their own lives there. I wondered what the future would be like if the teenage boys lived with such undisciplined style.

I was also concerned with their lack of work. Youngsters living without any means of releasing stress or tension may be dangerous. I did not know why the Kyai did not set up a working schedule like working in the fields for a few hours each day. The Santris did not work so they just sat bored at school. I was glad to see that they had a small volleyball court in school to play.

My main concern for the Santris was the education system. At this Pesantren, they only studied the Koran. I heard that other Pesantrens also taught academics besides the Koran, or that the Santris went to public school for education. However, the Santris where we visited only studied the Koran. Their hope was that after studying several years at the Pesantren, they will become the Kyai one day. If they did not have education as a basic means of moral, social, economic, and intellectual communication and teaching, how could they know that there are problems and how to lead others to have healthy lives! They told us that not everyone will become a Kyai since the title Kyai is given by people. I thus wondered what those who could not become a Kyai would do for a living after spending several years studying only the Koran.

Every time a person went to the Mosque or the prayer room to pray, they always washed themselves with the ritual purification. I observed that most young Santris purified themselves habitually rather than wholeheartedly. Some washed themselves in a few seconds. They gave me instructions to ritual purification, and it took me two minutes to wash my head, arms, hands, feet, ears, nose, eyes, forehead, and mouth. Their practice helped me realize that every time I made the sign of the cross, I most likely did that as "habitually" as the young Santris who washed themselves in a few seconds. Consequently, every time I make the sign of the cross, now, I am aware of what I am doing. Now every time I make a sign of the cross, my mind and heart proclaim that I am a Catholic who believes in God faithfully and proudly.

When they came together to pray, they lined up in an orderly manner beginning with the front row and latecomers continued to line up. Compared to the Catholic practice, I think we have a tendency to sit in the back during Mass. Many times I have heard priests inviting and even urging the parishioners to move up front, yet the front rows were usually empty. The Muslims’ practice of lining up helped me revise my practice of coming to Mass.

When they prayed, they faced the direction of Mecca. They did not turn around during the prayer. I heard from Tom Michel’s presentation that if someone hit them during the prayer, and if the offense was not extremely serious, urgent or fatal, they did not defend themselves or say anything. I observed that during our own mass, a candle went out, the parishioners felt distracted, and tried to fix it. I was impressed to witness a Muslim praying in the room while the rest were socializing. This showed me that when I pray to God, I should not pay attention to anything that distracts me from God

I also dressed and prayed like a Muslim during the immersion experience. I recited with them the "Shahada" (the profession of faith) that one of the Santris taught me, "La ilah ill’Allah" (There is no god but Allah) that sounds like "a-i-la, ha-i-la-lo." Since the prayer is in Arabic, I could not understand it, nor could I correctly pronounce it. As I recited this phrase with them, I realized that the rhythm gradually increased in tempo. Eventually they had to make the phrase shorter, to ill’Allah, which means "no god but God," to boost up the speed of the prayer. I was amazed at the spirit of that moment. The spirit reminded me of the Catholic Church: strong and high. It could also be extreme. I imagined that if I were their age and lived like they did—doing nothing but constantly praying in an extremely spirited manner, there likely came a time that I’d do whatever was asked of me if it was for Allah.

As I write this reflection paper, Muslims are violently expressing their feelings and their thoughts regarding displaying images of Muhammad un-respectfully in many countries. I wonder if their violent behavior relates to the way that they pray. Although I enjoyed learning about their faith and their religious practices from the immersion trip, I questioned the parts of the Muslim faith and religious formation that made them act violently.

At the Pesantren, I did not have a sarong to wear for prayer so one of the Santris leaders, Taufik, lent me one. By the end of the visit, Taufik insisted on giving it to me as a souvenir. I was in awe because it was very costly for him. I learned that the cost of that sarong was approximately 32,000 rupias. That amount for me was nothing, but for him, it was another story. The monthly boarding at the Pesantren is about 18,000 rupias. Thus, what he offered me was worth about two months of living. I also learned that he had only four sarongs, but he still gave me one. In the face of such hospitality and generosity, I still wonder how such the formation at the Pesantren could help promote it. It seems that I made harsh judgments and critiques of their training based on my formative orientation without knowing in depth its value.

I learned more than I expected from the trip. Although the main task was to learn about Islam, I also learned a great deal about their culture. The Wayang—at first I wondered why people did not see the Wayang performance without the screen. Wouldn’t they enjoy the colorful images of the Wayang more without the screen? After observing for a couple of days and hearing the explanation from experts, I realized that the images behind the screen were meant to help the audience use their imagination because the actual images had boundaries that could limit the minds of the audience.

My only wish was for the trip to be longer so that I could learn more: a new culture, tradition, religion, and social and political systems. Specifically, I learned to challenge myself to encounter new things without a judgment. I believe that God invited me to continue to open my heart and mind to listen, to engage in, and to enjoy Him in and through many different things then and in the future. I also believe that as long as I kept the image of the "empty bell" in my mind, I can continue to learn and to grow on the path of holiness. After learning from other faiths, religions, and religious practices, I will use some of their goodness to enrich my faith and my spiritual journey with God.

In the end, I thank God that I am a Catholic.